


show your sharp-tipped teeth

by likecharity



Category: Chronicles of Narnia RPF, Jonas Brothers
Genre: Blow Jobs, Corruption, Drinking, Hand Jobs, M/M, Oral Sex, Smoking, Virginity Kink, hints of incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-01-22
Updated: 2009-01-22
Packaged: 2018-01-24 08:32:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1598393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/likecharity/pseuds/likecharity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will and Skandar make it their mission to corrupt Nick Jonas.</p>
            </blockquote>





	show your sharp-tipped teeth

**Author's Note:**

> For [alexi_lupin](http://alexi-lupin.livejournal.com/), who requested it forever ago. Title from 'Cheap and Cheerful' by The Kills.

"So basically," says Georgie, hands on hips, "Mum and Dad won't take me 'cause they say they're too old for concerts, and my sisters won't take me 'cause they say they have 'dignity'," she does air quotes for effect, "but I have to have at least one chaperone over sixteen, _so_..."

" _Hold on a second_ ," interrupts Will, perched on the corner of Georgie's bed, "are you implying that Skandar and I have no dignity?"

Anna, paging through a magazine on the other end of the bed, snorts, but Will ignores her. How she's managed to get out of this one, he doesn't know, but he's immensely jealous and plans to grill her for tips later.

"You made out at the dinner table that one time," says Georgie, scrunching up her nose. "I couldn't finish my lasagne."

Skandar chuckles.

"Well, _maybe_ that's true," says Will, colouring slightly, "but I don't know if I'd go so far as to say that means we have no _dignity_. And I think there's a difference between a bit of a kiss during a meal, and going to a Jonas Brothers concert."

"Yeah, it's not happening," says Skandar, shaking his head. "I'm sorry, George, but..."

"Woah," says Anna quietly, "check out the biceps on the little one."

"Pardon?" says Will, bemused, leaning over to have a look at the magazine she's got open across her lap.

He says nothing further for a good few seconds, so Skandar goes over to see what all the fuss is about. And – well, _woah._ Check out the biceps on the little one, indeed.

"Who—what—" Will stammers weakly after a while.

"That's Nick," says Georgie, smirking. "You can have him if you want, I like Joe best."

Will doesn't care who Joe is. He doesn't care who the other one is, either. From now on, all he cares about is Nick Jonas, and his gorgeous dark curls and pink cheeks and beautiful eyes.

And his sweet, sweet biceps.

He glances up from the magazine at Skandar, suddenly feeling guilty, but Skandar appears to be transfixed by the glossy image.

"He's seventeen by the way," says Anna, who is now reading some sort of Jonas fact file on the opposite page. "I'm beginning to think you like 'em young, Moseley," she adds, prodding Will in the ribs.

Will stammers a bit but gets nowhere near a comeback.

"So that's a 'yes' to the concert tickets, then?" grins Georgie triumphantly.

Will nods wordlessly, and Skandar does the same, eyes still fixed on the picture of the magazine. Anna waves a hand in front of Skandar's face.

"You may come to regret this," she says to Georgie, darkly.

***

  
"You know, I don't usually go for guys," Skandar's saying later, with his mouth full, as they sit in Georgie's living room, waiting for dinner to be ready and munching on crisps.

"Except me," Will interjects.

"Except you," Skandar repeats, "but...this Nick Jonas. He's...quite something."

Will nods in agreement. "Quite something," he says, giving Skandar an amused sideways glance.

"I thought I'd go for something more family-friendly than _I want my cock down his throat_ ," Skandar explains, rather loudly.

Next door in the kitchen, Mr. Henley, chopping carrots, nearly cuts off his thumb.

Mrs. Henley hands her husband a paper towel. "It's nice to have them all round sometimes," she coughs.

"Yes, yes," Mr. Henley agrees, flustered. "Nice kids."

***

  
"THAT WAS SO AWESOME," Georgie is practically yelling as they pile into Will's car a few months later, concert over, ears ringing. "WASN'T THAT AWESOME?"

Will would love to maintain whatever dignity he has left, and tell Georgie that no, it wasn't anywhere near awesome, that the boys' voices are completely weak live, and that it was completely mortifying for him and Skandar to be practically the only males in the audience.

But the truth is, he could hardly concentrate on little details like that, because they got _so close_ to the stage, and they could see Nick's glorious biceps _in person_ , and they got to just stand there and watch as he played the guitar and he sang and he was all sweat-soaked in his little white t-shirt. The jostling, shrieking teenage girls were easy to ignore when _that_ was right in front of him.

"It actually was pretty awesome," says Skandar simply, with a shrug as if to say, _dignity's gone, nothing left to lose._ "Nick's pretty, uh, flexible."

"You mean all the flips and stuff they do?" Georgie asks. "Yeah, it's so cool!"

Skandar turns to Will and smirks, one eyebrow raised. Will _knows_ that look. He also knows that when the two of them are in Will's bed tonight, there's only going to be one person on both of their minds.

***

  
"I bet he's never even—" Will's saying, for about the sixtieth time that night, as he curls against Skandar's body in bed and nips at the pale shell of an ear.

"—been touched," Skandar supplies, voice a little breathy as he rolls his head back towards Will. "By anyone."

They've been trying to get to sleep for about half an hour now but both of them are still on a high from the concert and the bright, stage-lit images of Nick Jonas won't stop swimming around their heads. Will's hand slides down Skandar's side, over his waist, his hip.

"Yeah," he murmurs, then stops for a second, still. "Do you think he even...you know, wanks off?"

Skandar snorts. "'Course," he says, laughing. "They're not _freaks_ , Will. I think they're... _slightly_ normal."

"Can you imagine it, though?" Will says quietly.

Skandar lets his eyes fall closed. Will's lips tease his ear again and then suddenly he can see it, Nick lying on a bed, skin damp with sweat as his hand slides down his naked body, finding his cock resting thick and full against his stomach. He can imagine Nick struggling with his conscience, fighting against the guilt as he wraps his hand around himself, letting out a soft little groan, biting his lip—

"You can," Will whispers, grinning. His hand slips down to the waistband of Skandar's boxers. Skandar's hard almost instantly. "Can you imagine the first time someone _else_ —"

"Ohgod," Skandar gasps, "yes—"

It's partly a reaction to Will's words, because the mental images that burst into his brain are just _so fucking good_ , but mostly it's the way Will's hand brushes against his cock before enveloping it in a tight fist, moving fast, slick—just the way he needs it.

"He's _never had this_ , Skandar," Will says urgently, as Skandar rolls over to face him, repositioning, hips and hands and knees bumping awkwardly for a moment until they fall back into a rhythm. "He's never—no one's touched him—"

Skandar fumbles for Will's boxers, feeling him harder than ever beneath the fabric, straining, hot. He yanks them down, out of the way, and takes Will into his hand, listening to the low groan he gets in response. All he can see is Nick, a boy one year younger than him but _so_ much less experienced, pink-cheeked and breathless and shy as someone takes his cock into their hand—

"He's never had a blowjob," Will blurts out, his hips bucking forward, his cock pushing into Skandar's fist. "He doesn't know what it feels like to—"

Skandar doesn't know why the thought should turn Will on so much. He doesn't know why the thought turns _him_ on so much, it just _does_ , and the images spin around his brain as Will brings him closer and closer.

"I'm going to—" Will pants suddenly, all broken sentences, his body jerking wildly as Skandar struggles to keep up until he feels Will spurting hot and wet over his skin.

Will can't speak, can't keep fuelling the fantasies in Skandar's mind, but they're carrying on regardless, and it's not long before Will twists his wrist, presses his lips to Skandar's neck, and Skandar comes, muscles clenching and releasing as he lets go.

"We've got to," Will says breathlessly a minute or two later as they lie there, sticky and sweaty and finally ready to go to sleep, "we've got to—we've got to meet this guy, Skandar."

Skandar chuckles, kissing Will on the nose. "In your dreams," he says, shaking his head.

***

  
It's a complete coincidence that the next event the Narnia cast are invited to, the Jonas Brothers happen to have been invited to as well. It's some awards show. Will can't quite remember the details, because he's had quite a few glasses of wine and they've actually _bumped into the boys themselves_ , and everything's feeling a little blurry and surreal.

It was Georgie who spotted them first, saw them standing in a corner, just the three of them and their bodyguard. Will was the one who suggested they go over to them, and when they did, Joe was doing some kind of weird dance and had Nick in hysterics, and it was pretty awkward to interrupt and infringe on some kind of brotherly inside joke. Will said something like "Hey, we're all with Disney, why haven't we met?" which was probably pretty stupid, and Georgie was blushing and almost speechless for possibly the first time in her life. Anna was just completely clueless about the band in general and the boys seemed slightly offended about that.

But then, Georgie asked for autographs and Anna unexpectedly ended up deep in conversation with Kevin, and 'Big Rob' decided the boys were in safe hands and wandered off somewhere.

And now, Will and Skandar have Nick all to themselves.

Will's asking Nick about what he's wearing, and where Joe got his shoes from, so Skandar's pretty much _bored beyond belief_ , even though Nick seems quite talkative. Skandar takes Will's wine glass out of his hand while he's talking, and takes a big gulp. Will just laughs, oblivious to Nick's raised eyebrows, and when his glass is handed back, he offers it to the other boy.

"I'm underage," Nick says politely.

"So am I," Skandar smirks.

Nick's smile gets slightly strained. "I...don't drink," he says.

"Oh," says Will, surprised.

He knows it says something bad about current society that he should be so shocked at a minor refusing alcohol, but it does strike him as very odd. Of course there's the whole 'purity' thing, but sometimes he can't help but wonder if it's all for show. They're Disney-manufactured role models for young teenagers—of course they've got to appear 'pure'. Perhaps, he thinks, Nick would have taken the proffered glass if they weren't in such a public place. After all, if anyone happened to see him taking a sip of wine, it'd be a huge scandal.

"Okay," he says, feeling like he understands, pulling the glass back with a smile. "Sorry."

***

  
"I would _kill_ for a cheeseburger," says Joe loudly, causing quite a few people to stop abruptly in the middle of their conversations and look at him.

Anna laughs. "I don't know about burgers, but there's a really good place down the street that we could eat at, if you want."

Georgie shoots her a wide-eyed look like, _really?_ , like she can't quite believe they're actually _inviting the Jonas Brothers out for a meal_ , but Anna only shrugs, grinning at her, confident.

"Yeah?" says Kevin, looking interested.

"Hey, Nicky!" Joe yells, leaning over to tap his brother on the shoulder, and Nick spins round, startled. "We're going to get something to eat, you wanna come? Me and Kev and the girls?"

He sort of waggles his eyebrows, tilting his head towards Anna (or, more accurately, towards Anna's _chest_ ), which is probably the least subtle thing in the world, and yet Anna still finds it charming. Some magic, Joe Jonas has.

"Uhh," says Nick, and Anna frowns, waiting, wondering what's going through his mind. His gaze is flickering back to Will and Skandar. "Actually, Will and Skandar have invited me back—"

"C'mon Nicky," pouts Joe, interrupting. "Restaurants. Food. And...stuff."

He tilts his head un-subtly towards Anna once more, but Nick barely notices.

"I have food at my place," Will speaks up, and Anna's got to admit she's impressed at how casual it sounds, like he's honestly just planning to put a couple of pizzas in the oven for Nick instead of deflower him.

"Do you want to meet up later, then?" asks Kevin. "Couple of hours? Call Rob?"

Nick hesitates, but then nods. "Yeah," he says, "sounds good. Skandar claims he can beat me at Guitar Hero, so—I gotta give it a go."

Kevin grins. "Got it," he says, and the boys bump fists, but Joe still looks concerned.

"You sure that's okay?" he asks.

"Yeah," Nick assures him. "We'll only be like, an hour. Hour and a half. Two hours, tops."

And just like that, Will and Skandar have got Nick right where they want him.

Anna's got to admit she's impressed.

***

  
Will's apartment is big and white and Nick suddenly feels a little uncomfortable walking into it, him and these two guys he only just met. Will switches off the alarm and flicks on lights and heads straight for the kitchen, and Skandar kind of acts like he lives there, shrugging off his coat and padding into the living room, leaving Nick to follow him.

Nick perches on the arm of the sofa as Skandar fumbles through Will's DVD and game collection, and he looks around, taking in his surroundings. He doesn't really know why he's here, to be honest, he just needed to get away from his brothers for a while and make his own choices. It's been stressful on tour, never having any time to himself, any opportunities to be independent. It seems like he's noticing it more and more, lately, becoming more and more aware of some kind of _claustrophobia_ or something where he just can't stand being surrounded by the same people 24/7. He needed to break off.

Skandar locates Guitar Hero, but just sort of tosses it onto the carpet and then slides back across the floor. He doesn't say anything, and the silence isn't exactly awkward but Nick is still hyper-aware of it, and he tries to think of something to start a conversation about. But before he has a chance, Will's back, pushing open the living room door, three cans clutched in his hands.

Three _beer_ cans.

"I," says Nick, feeling about ten times more awkward than before, "I don't drink."

"Yeah, not in front of cameras and news reporters," Skandar smirks, taking one of the cans from Will and cracking it open.

"No," says Nick, starting to feel a little pissed off, even more so when Will offers him the can like he hasn’t even said anything. "Not ever."

"Really?" asks Skandar, taking a long swig of the beer, condensation wetting his fingertips.

"Really," says Nick.

He twists his purity ring around his finger, feeling more uncomfortable by the minute. The thing is, it shouldn't really be such a big deal. The guys aren't being _forceful_ or anything. They've asked a couple of times, but it's more like they're curious and surprised—it's not like they're putting actual pressure on him. So he shouldn't care so much.

But the problem is...the problem is the _temptation_.

He's away from the cameras, away from the news reporters, away from his _brothers_ , so who would know if he just had a little taste? He knows Joe tried alcohol once, at some lame-ass party a year or so ago. He came back _stinking_ of it, stumbling into Nick's room late at night and toppling onto his bed. He was slurring and stupid and it made Nick _angry_ and maybe a little bit jealous, as he poured his brother a glass of water and then guided him to his own bed. The next morning Joe was like the living dead, greyish pale skin and bags under his eyes, and Mom and Dad almost took him to the doctor, convinced he was sick instead of simply suffering his first hangover.

"Never again," he'd said, shaking his head as he lolled on Nick's bed, still only wearing his pajama pants even though it was 3pm. "Seriously just—don't do it, Nicky. It's not worth it. I think I'm gonna puke."

And yeah, usually he'd take Joe's word for _anything_ , but right now that night seems like forever ago, and here he is in a strange apartment in London, miles away from home, and Joe's in some restaurant somewhere, probably chatting up the girl from Narnia with the big tits. It doesn't mean anything anymore. He barely even knows what the point is anymore, why he bothers. He turns the ring around his finger once more, and looks up at Will and Skandar, surprised to see the concern on both of their faces.

"You okay?" Skandar asks, eyebrows raised.

Nick feels his face get slightly hot. He didn't realise he'd drifted off like that, into his own thoughts. "Yeah," he says. "Just...thinking about stuff."

Almost immediately, he wishes he hadn't added that last bit, because the boys suddenly seem interested.

"What stuff?" Skandar asks, taking a long pull at his beer.

Nick shifts on the couch. "Nah, nothing," he says eventually. "It's just—the tour's been kinda stressful, it's nice to get a chance to relax."

"I know what you mean," says Will, and Nick doubts he does. "It's like that with press tours and stuff, when you're promoting a movie. Different countries all the time."

Maybe he's right to an extent, maybe they _can_ sympathise, but Nick can't believe it's really that similar. All they have to do is give a couple of interviews, show up for a few pictures. He has that too, but on top of night after night of gruelling concerts. And he _loves_ it, obviously, wouldn't trade it for the _world_ , but it's tiring, and he thinks the whole thing is starting to mess with his head a little.

Will and Skandar seem keen to get him talking about it, anyway, and he's reluctant, not wanting to make it seem like he's _ungrateful_ or something, but after a while he finds himself ranting away—about the lack of personal space, the jam-packed schedule, the way that everything always has to be _perfect_ or he ends up totally let down by the whole performance. The guys are sympathetic and actually seem to understand a lot more than he thought they would, and he finds himself so engrossed in a conversation with Will that he doesn't notice Skandar slipping out of the room.

"It's just like—sometimes you miss your own bed, you know?" Nick says. He thinks of his bed, hundreds of miles away, and how it's going to be weeks before he gets to sleep in it again. Tonight, he guesses he's going to be in yet another hotel, once again in twin beds with Joe.

"Ugh, definitely," Will agrees, nodding. He brings his beer bottle up to his mouth and Nick realises he's finishing it off already. He hadn't noticed they'd been talking for so long. "It's so great to get the opportunity to visit so many places, but—pardon the cliché—there's really no place like home."

Nick laughs, because _god_ , it's so cheesy, and yet it's so incredibly true and it actually tugs on his heartstrings a bit, makes him ache for his own house.

Skandar comes back in, pushing the door open with his shoulder and coming across to Will's armchair. He's got two freshly-opened bottles of beer in his hands and he bends down, over Will, handing him one and then, to Nick's utter shock, kissing him lightly on the lips.

"Thanks, Skan," Will says warmly, smiling back at Skandar, and Nick just stares, hardly able to believe what he's just seen.

Skandar sinks back down into his own seat on the sofa, and then glances up, noticing Nick's expression. He lets out a burst of laughter.

"Sorry," he says, "forgot to mention. Me and Will, we're kind of a thing."

"O-oh," Nick stammers, nodding. He fidgets. He knows he shouldn't, knows he should try and act casual and comfortable with it, but he can't stop twisting his purity ring around his finger and he can't look either of the guys in the eye. "Right," he says, and swallows, hard. "Okay."

He can see them exchanging a look out of the corner of their eye.

"Really?" asks Skandar. "It...kinda seems to make you uncomfortable."

"No, no," says Nick, laughing nervously. He still can't look at either of them, instead looking down at his own hands. "I'm just surprised. And...it doesn't seem like a very good idea when you're...you know, in the public eye and all."

"Oh, we're just careful to keep it a secret," Will says, and Nick can hear the sly smile in his voice. He hears him stand up, and move closer, sitting down between Nick and Skandar on the sofa. He sort of leans in, trying to catch Nick's eye. "It's really not as hard as you'd think, to keep things out of the press."

Nick snorts before he can stop himself. "Maybe for _you_ ," he says, and then wishes he hadn't.

But neither of them seem to get what he means, anyway. Will's hand reaches out, rests gently on Nick's thigh.

"Have you ever thought about guys, Nick?" he asks, voice breathy and close, and Nick's heart leaps into his throat, his whole body going tense.

The thing is, it'd be easy if he could say 'no' and mean it. Or if he could mention some guy who lives down the street, or some actor or something. But what makes him squirm, what makes his throat go dry, is that he has, and it's—oh, god. It's _Joe._

It's not like it's often, or like anything's _happened_ , but sometimes there are shows when they're just so fucking _on_ and Joe's there, all sweat and adrenaline, arm round Nick's shoulder, and naively Nick thinks it's like a kind of sex—the movements of it, the shifting and sliding of fingers and the way the two of them find this perfect, seamless rhythm. And then there are the nights spent at hotels with thin bathroom walls, and fuck, it's not like they ever talk about it, but they all jerk off and they all hear each other sometimes and they all _know_ it. And sometimes he doesn't put his iPod on when Joe goes for a shower, and even over the sound of the water he can hear those shallow intakes of breath and he just can't stop the images that bombard his mind.

It doesn't mean anything, he always tells himself. It'll be some weird result of not having a proper peer group, always being on the road, the stress of tour, something like that. But it's bad enough thinking the things he thinks about _anyone_ , and worse that it's a guy, but his own _brother_? He's fucked up.

"N-no," he hears himself stammer out, and Will chuckles warmly.

"Heard that before," he says, pausing to take a swig of his beer. "Skandar's the same. Supposedly."

Skandar rolls his eyes. "There are a few exceptions," he says to Nick, and the unspoken implication is obvious: _you're one of them._

"I should," says Nick, and then stops. The other two are looking at him expectantly and he coughs, mumbles, "I should get going," and starts to get up.

"No, come on," says Will almost immediately. "Stay. I didn't mean to offend you. We're not saying you're gay."

Nick relaxes slightly, feels himself sinking back down onto the sofa.

" _Clearly_ Kevin's the gay one," Will goes on like he thinks he's making a joke. "Although we've got our suspicions about Joe, too, which'd be a shame for little Georgie, as I think she's planning to have his kids some day, but _really_..."

Skandar sees Nick tense up, sees his fingers gripping the armrest of the sofa. Will can be fun when he's been drinking, but unfortunately the main effect alcohol has on him is to make him unable to shut up. He just stops thinking and starts talking and it tends to get him into a _lot_ of trouble.

"You must know," Will carries on, " _one_ of them's got to be a pouf, right? I mean, Kevin's practically gayer than me—"

Nick's on his feet in a flash, spinning round on his heel with his fist flying out at Will's face before Skandar even has a chance to stop him.

"You can say what you like about me," he says, sounding slightly breathless as he pulls back, "but if you say another fucking _word_ about my brothers..."

The threat breaks off, hangs in the air. Will's just clutching his nose with his eyes wide in shock. Skandar doesn't really know what to do. It's such a sudden change in Nick that he's almost kind of _scared_ , and he wonders what they've got themselves into with this. He pries Will's hand off his face and, luckily, it seems Nick can't throw a very good punch because Will's not bleeding or swollen or anything. He's just sort of gaping and staring at Nick, who's standing there rubbing his fist and looking at the floor.

"I'm—I'm sorry," Will stammers. "I didn't mean—I was just joking around."

"Uh huh," Nick grunts. "Well don't, all right? I'm gonna go."

"No, please," says Skandar.

Suddenly, he feels really, _really_ bad about all this. He feels completely stupid. It's obvious that Nick's pretty stubborn in his beliefs and nothing they can do is going to change that, especially not if they go around insulting his family. He doesn't want to start fights and he doesn't want to end up in some sort of feud with these guys. It was just a fantasy, really, that this night could end the way they want it to, but he should know that fantasies never translate well into reality, and if Nick's going to leave, he wants him to go after a friendly evening of video games or something, not after punching Will in the face.

"We're sorry, really," Skandar says. "Will's a twat, he gets like this when he's been drinking, just—stay. Hang out with us. Just for a little while."

"Yeah," says Will, smiling. "Stay. Relax. Have a beer." Skandar shoots him a look. "I'm _kidding_ ," Will adds hurriedly.

But then Nick surprises them both for the second time that night. He takes a long look at them both, then reaches for the previously-rejected can of beer off the coffee table and sits back down on the sofa with it, cracking it open with a loud snap and a fizz which break the silence. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees the look they exchange, but he ignores it, bringing the can to his lips and taking a long, curious sip.

He _knows_ he shouldn't. He's perfectly aware. He knows that now the beer's touched his lips, it's all going to go downhill from here. And yet, the curiosity is overwhelming. Just once, he wants to do it, do _everything_ , and find out what the hell it is he's abstaining from anyway. Find out what the big deal is. Because right now, watching Skandar—only a year older than him—as he takes a pull at his own beer and then smirks, wiping his mouth...it just doesn't seem like much of a big deal at all.

He takes another swig.

"So," says Will, obviously trying to move on with the conversation and act casual, "sleeping in hotel beds all the time, huh? Not nice."

Nick laughs at the conversation topic, drinking a little bit more. "Oh, I dunno," he says, "some of them can be pretty comfortable."

***

  
About twenty minutes later, Skandar finds himself fetching Nick Jonas a second beer, and still laughing to himself in the kitchen at something the younger boy said. Funny how alcohol can change a situation, he thinks wickedly, as he heads back to the living room, hearing Nick and Will still chatting away.

But when he enters the room, handing Nick the bottle, he realises the conversation's not so light-hearted.

"I'd...rather not discuss it, if that's okay," Nick's saying, that polite, closed-off smile back on his face again.

It's as if every now and then he just shuts down, shuts off to any outside experiences, like he's so used to this crazy life he lives with his brothers that it's hard to let anything else in. Skandar sits back down, fumbling in his pocket for his cigarettes and wondering what's made Nick uncomfortable now.

"I'm just curious," says Will obliviously. "You must have _so many girls_ willing to jump into bed with you in the blink of an eye. I'm _gay_ and even I don't see how you can resist—"

"Will," says Skandar warningly, realising Will's doing that drunken rambling thing again. "Leave it, okay?" He finds the half-empty, battered box of his sister's cigarettes and pulls it out.

" _Skandar_ ," Will groans. "I thought you'd stopped with that—"

"Oh, relax, Will, it's not a big deal," Skandar sighs, pulling out a cigarette. He sees Nick starting on his second beer, clearly feeling awkward.

"Well, you're not doing it in the house," Will says sharply, disapprovingly, and Skandar rolls his eyes. "If you have to do it at all, go out on the patio."

Skandar shrugs, standing up and reaching for a box of matches that's lying on the coffee table next to some candles (trust William Moseley to have _candles_ on his coffee table) and then turns towards the door. He wonders if Will is going to screw this up by grilling Nick about his virginity while he's gone, and then suddenly a thought strikes him.

"Nick?" he says innocently, holding the cigarette pack out.

He sees Nick's eyes fix on the packet—the big block letters saying something about cancer or whatever—and for a moment he wonders why he even bothered.

But then Nick stands up, shooting a look at Will and then reaching into the crumpled packet in Skandar's hand.

Skandar doesn't miss a beat. "Back in a few minutes, Will," he smirks, leading Nick towards the patio.

Nick's sort of fidgety and shaky when Skandar's trying to light the cigarette for him, holding it out and then changing his mind and placing it between his lips. When he first inhales he does it _much_ too deeply and starts coughing, but Skandar doesn't laugh.

"I coughed the first time too," he says, and Nick looks comforted, choking out a few more breaths and then bringing the cigarette back to his mouth. "My mates all found it hilarious. I thought my lungs were going to give in."

Nick grins, takes a gentler drag this time, and breathes out the smoke perfectly. Skandar grins back at him. It's not like it's some kind of _dream_ of his to corrupt people, he just thinks that anyone his age (more or less) who's never had a beer or smoked a cigarette is _missing out._ It's judgemental and stupid and he knows it just depends on the kind of life you lead and the people you spend time with, but his motto's always been to try anything once and really, he doesn't see the _harm._ If Nick has to ring Big Tom or whoever soon, that's fine—they'll be able to sober him up and send him off without any suspicions, and they'll have given him a good time.

And if he forgets about his brothers and his bodyguard altogether, well—they might have the chance to give him an even _better_ time. After all, there are just some things that Skandar believes no teenage boy should have to go without.

"Good?" Skandar asks, lighting his own cigarette and taking a drag. He glances at Nick out of the corner of his eye.

Nick nods, smoke curling out from his perfectly curved lips, his narrow nostrils. "Yeah," he says, and laughs a bit. Skandar wonders how drunk he is, tries to remember how drunk he felt after _his_ first beer. "Yeah, it's all right."

They smoke in silence for a little while, standing there on Will's patio, looking out into the night, at the glittering city lights. Skandar looks at Nick again, and he kind of can't believe he's actually standing next to him. He was never quite as fixated on the guy as Will was, back when they were looking at Georgie's magazines or standing there in the crowd at the concert. Will acted like Nick was some sort of _conquest_ , and Skandar just sort of went along with it. But everything he's said is true—it's rare that he finds a guy that actually _interests_ him, and for ages he thought Will was the only exception to his heterosexuality. But there's something about Nick that just really turns him on, and he supposes he shouldn't be so surprised about it—after all, thousands of girls across America are thinking the same thing.

Skandar watches Nick hold the cigarette between his lips, expertly, as he loosens his tie and sighs, leaning back against the wall. His gaze is fixed somewhere in the distance, like he's not aware of Skandar's eyes on him. _What a waste,_ Skandar finds himself thinking. The number of girls that Nick could have on their knees, sucking him off. The number of girls who would spread their legs for him in seconds.

"I'm not gonna stay," Nick says suddenly, interrupting Skandar's thoughts. He twirls the cigarette in his fingers like he plays with his ring, fidgety, anxious. "I've got to meet my brothers. Soon."

"I know," says Skandar, watching him carefully.

"And I don't—I don't ever do this," says Nick, cigarette back in his mouth again for a moment, "I don't do any of this. So don’t—"

Skandar knows he means _don't tell anyone_ and he's offended at the idea. "We wouldn't," he says, instantly. His cigarette smokes slowly in his fingers, ignored, and even though he knows he's getting down to his last few and he's going to have to try nick some off Soumaya again, he doesn't care. "We're not out to get you, you know."

Nick laughs, coughs, looks down at his feet. "Yeah," he says, smiling.

Just then, the sliding doors behind them shift, pulling open, and Will steps out, shivering in the cool air. "Got lonely," he says, by way of explanation, laughing.

Skandar knows that Will can't _stand_ the smell of cigarettes, knows that it drives him crazy that Skandar's an occasional smoker. And now he's standing right next to them both, breathing in the air like it's no big deal.

"You mean you're not scared you'll die, standing out here?" Skandar teases, taking a long hard draw from his cigarette and slowly, deliberately breathing out the smoke.

"No," Will snaps back, grinning.

"Oh really?" Skandar smirks. "It's no problem at all?"

"No," Will says again, eyes sparkling. "No problem." He moves a little closer. "Want me to prove it?"

When Will's lips meet Skandar's they're warm and soft, and the kiss is easy, comfortable. They've done this a thousand times before and it's almost easy to forget that there's someone standing right next to them, quickly smoking his cigarette and looking off into the distance, pretending he's not aware.

Skandar slips his tongue between Will's lips, his cigarette burning softly away between his fingers at his side, and he can hear Nick's breathing quicken, fast and harsh beside them. He drops the cigarette onto the ground, sucks gently at Will's bottom lip, and pulls back.

"I think we should go back inside," he says, quiet, careful, and Will reaches for the doors.

Nick takes one last drag, and it's maybe a little too quick or he's a little too nervous because he sucks in too sharply and coughs again, spluttering as the cigarette butt falls to the ground and he grinds it out with the heel of his brogue shoe.

***

  
Nick stumbles a little as he steps back into the house, back into the bright lights of Will's living room. Kevin's always said to him that alcohol makes people act like idiots, that it slows their reactions and turns them into people that they're not. But right now this feels like the first time he's been able to be honest with himself in years, because he really _wants_ to be here, wants to hang out with guys he's not related to, go off on his own every once in a while, make his own decisions. But...putting on that purity ring was the first real decision he made in his life, and he still can't believe he's managed to undo half of what it means to him all in one night.

He sits back down on the sofa, picks up his beer again even though he's not sure if he should have any more. Will's dimming the lights. Already, the beginning of tonight seems like forever ago, like a distant blurry memory. He remembers the awards easily, because they were just like every other awards show he's been to. He remembers the younger girl with the green dress, bright-eyed and nervous as she asked for his autograph—just like almost every other fan. He remembers the older girl and how Joe kept staring at her, trying to get a good look down her dress. He wonders what they're doing now, at the restaurant. Wonders if Joe's chatting her up. Wonders if it's working.

"I actually feel a bit tipsy," Will chuckles, slumping down beside him on the sofa.

Skandar's already on his other side and Nick feels surrounded, his heart still pumping away a mile a minute. He thinks of Skandar's tongue sliding across Will's lips, pushing inside his mouth, the boys' chests pressing against each other as they kissed. He thinks of the way Will said it wasn't hard to keep things out of the press. He thinks about Miley, thinks about Selena. He thinks about the way they kissed him, Miley too insistent and eager, Selena too hesitant, too cautious.

And then he looks at Will, Will's lips wrapped around the rim of his beer bottle. He looks at Skandar, thinks about the way his lips looked pursed at the cigarette filter.

He decides to stop thinking about girls.

"So," says Will, settling on the sofa, closer to Nick than he needs to be, their thighs touching. "Do you want to call Big...Big Bodyguard...guy...whoever?" He checks his watch, hardly glancing at the time. They're too confident, too sure, comfortable in the knowledge that Nick has no real intention of trying to get back in touch with his brothers. "It's getting late."

"Yeah," says Skandar, with that _smirk_ again, lips quirking, his dark eyes twinkling mischievously. "You probably should."

 _Should. Should_ , Nick thinks. It's the most important word in all of this. What he _should_ do, what he _shouldn't_ do. He probably shouldn't have split off from his brothers. He shouldn't be hanging around with a couple of gay guys. He definitely shouldn't have had one and a half beers and a cigarette.

He shouldn't want to stay.

It's Will who touches him first, gently, a slight stroke of fingers against his throat, then his cheek. Will turns Nick's face, turns it so he's looking at him.

"I should go," says Nick weakly, and he means to say something else as well, but the words are lost against Will's lips, hot, pressed up against his own in a hard, desperate kiss.

It's nothing like Miley, nothing like Selena, nothing like _anything_ , and he grabs for the sofa cushion for something to hold onto and finds Will's thigh instead. He digs his fingers in anyway, and parts his lips. Will breathes out, slowly, moving closer, his hand sliding up into Nick's hair as his tongue slides inside Nick's mouth, and Nick starts to panic a little, drawing back.

But it's Skandar behind him, Skandar's mouth at his neck and Skandar's fingers fumbling with his shirt buttons. _Oh, god._

He doesn't realise he's said it out loud, but then Will's grinning against his lips and Skandar's chuckling as he pulls off Nick's tie.

"I don't—" says Nick, feeling Will's lips brushing against his even as he's speaking, "I don't, I've never—"

"We know," Skandar smiles, helping Nick out of his shirt before pressing in close again, his lips hot and wet against Nick's throat, moving down across his shoulder.

Will doesn't stop, mouth working slowly and smoothly against Nick's, confident and practised. Nick feels a strong hand spreading out across his chest, and then Will moves back, ducks down, his lips pressing to Nick's nipple just as Skandar claims Nick's mouth. It's too much, too fast, and yet he can't bring himself to do anything to stop it, and the room swims and blurs around him before his eyes fall closed and his tongue slips inside Skandar's mouth. Skandar tastes like cigarettes and his kissing is faster, harsher, and Nick feels a gentle graze of teeth against his bottom lip as Skandar pushes closer to him, fingers travelling down his bare stomach.

Will's tongue traces Nick's nipple, circling, stroking, and Nick arches his back, suddenly all too aware of his arms, not knowing where to put them. He drapes one awkwardly over Will's back, and clutches at Skandar's waist with his other hand. Skandar makes a low sound in his throat and shifts on the sofa, and suddenly Nick can feel the hardness in Skandar's trousers, pressing up against his leg. His heart hammers in his chest and he pulls back from the kiss, trying to collect his thoughts, but then Skandar's hands are sliding quickly down to Nick's pants, tugging at his zipper.

Nick falls back against the sofa, his breathing heavy. He shouldn't be doing this. He _can't_ be doing this. The room is almost spinning and his heart's beating way too fast, but it's in a _good_ way, like when he's on stage, under the bright lights and in front of the screaming crowds—it's that burning, nervous excitement that takes over his whole body. And right now his body just seems to be tingling with anticipation, reacting to every touch. Will's fingers tighten on his hip and Skandar's slide inside his pants, his palm just resting against Nick's cock through the thin fabric of his boxers. Nick's spent so much of his life trying _not_ to get hard that it's practically an instinct now, but then Will is kissing his neck and Skandar is gently stroking him and it just _feels_ so good.

"There you go," Skandar murmurs, his voice close, in Nick's ear. "It's okay. Relax."

"Are you okay?" Will asks quietly, looking at Nick.

They're both so _close_ , and Nick finds himself focusing on Will's big, concerned blue eyes, and the freckles that cover Skandar's pale skin. Skandar's hand is large and hot and Nick can't help but raise his hips, pressing against it.

"He's okay," Skandar grins at Will, and then his hands are on the waistband of Nick's pants, pulling them slowly down as Will fumbles to unlace Nick's shoes.

"Oh, god," he breathes weakly, letting himself be undressed.

They're back beside him in seconds, both still in their suits while Nick is clad in only his boxers, which are now tight, strained, the large bulge in them so obvious, but he feels too drunk to be embarrassed about it. He wants one of them to touch him again and he doesn't know _why_ , because he's not like them, he's not _gay_ , and this isn't something he's ever even thought about wanting.

Except for those times when he lies there on his hotel bed, painfully hard and trying not to touch himself as he listens to Joe's gasps and the little whimpers he never succeeds in muffling. Except for those times when they're just goofing around but Joe gets a little too close, and Nick can feel his hot breath and he can _smell_ him and it really seems sometimes like _Joe feels it too_ —

But right now Joe's in a restaurant, probably flirting with girls, and Nick's here with his clothes off, between two other guys. They're not Joe, but he _wants_ this, and he doesn't care if it's the alcohol's influence or whatever, he just—he needs someone to touch him.

It's Will who fulfils that wish, his strong hand on Nick's thigh, sliding up, rumpling the fabric of Nick's boxers, teasing. Nick shifts, tense and waiting, and Skandar kisses him again, soft and slow. When Will finally reaches his cock, hand loosely curled around its hard, thick shape, Nick gasps, splutters "Oh, God," against Skandar's open mouth. Skandar chuckles, and Nick wonders what it's like to live like this _all the time_ , and never worry about God or brothers or rings around your finger that serve as a constant reminder.

And then Will's tugging down Nick's boxers and wrapping a tight, sure hand around his cock, slick with spit, fingers curled, and all of Nick's thoughts vanish from his head as he thrusts up into Will's fist, letting out a groan that he just can't keep in.

"You okay?" Skandar whispers, lips brushing against Nick's ear. Nick's curls tickle his skin and he grins, eyes darting down between Nick's legs where Will is steadily sliding his hand over Nick's cock.

"Y-yeah," Nick breathes, and Skandar feels fingers gripping his waist tightly.

Skandar smoothes a hand over Nick's sweaty chest, thumb gently rubbing against a nipple. He looks back down, like he can't keep his eyes away for more than a second. Nick's cock is _so_ hard, jutting out from a thatch of dark hair at the juncture of his thighs, glistening at the flushed tip as Will strokes it, and all the muscles in Nick's stomach are clenching as he stretches and pants. Will moves closer, grinning at Skandar wickedly when Nick's eyes flutter closed, and Skandar takes over, Will's hand slipping off only to be quickly replaced.

Skandar goes rougher, fast slick strokes around that gorgeous cock, twisting his wrist and watching for Nick's reactions. Will tries to kiss him but Nick's too breathless, overcome by the sensations, and Will sinks down, mouth at Nick's neck instead, then sucking at the skin by his collarbone, hard enough to leave marks. Skandar shuffles on the sofa, uncomfortable, his own erection painfully trapped in his trousers. But he knows his pleasure doesn't matter now, isn't important, and he slides off the sofa, down on his knees, spreading Nick's legs and moving in between them. He stays still, fingers steadying the base of Nick's cock, lips only centimetres away, and looks up, savouring Nick's stunned expression.

He keeps his eyes focused on Nick as he parts his lips and sucks him in, cheeks hollowed. Out of the corner of his eye he sees Will looking down, jealously, and then Nick's back is arching, his mouth going slack as his grip tightens on the sofa cushions. Skandar keeps it up, mouth sliding up and down the shaft, tongue teasing the tip, until Nick's actually _writhing_ on the sofa and Will is having to press a firm hand to the boy's hip to keep him from choking Skandar. Skandar hardly cares, though, taking Nick as deep as he can, into his throat, hearing the little broken cry he gets in response. _God_ , it feels so good to be the first one to do this to him, to do this _for_ him.

It's not long before Will wants his turn, and Skandar returns to his place on the sofa beside Nick, keeping his fist steadily pumping Nick's cock until Will's there to swallow him down, his head bobbing quickly between Nick's legs. Skandar kisses Nick's parted, wet lips, knowing he's close, and then suddenly a sound rings out, a ringtone, and Skandar shoots a look at Nick's trousers on the floor where his phone is presumably in a pocket. All three of them freeze, Will's mouth still stretched around Nick's cock, and then—

"L-leave it," Nick pants, "please—don't stop—"

Skandar grins as Will picks up the pace, bringing him closer and closer as the phone's ringing slowly dies out. Skandar strokes Nick's hair, wiping sweaty curls from his forehead, leaning in to kiss him again. But then Nick's gasping, whimpering, his whole body jerking then going taut as he grasps wildly at Will's shoulder, coming hard. Will stays right where he is, and Skandar watches as his throat works to swallow.

Nick slumps bonelessly on the sofa, trying to catch his breath, and Will just grins, shaking his head at Skandar in disbelief as he wipes his mouth. He gently lifts Nick's feet, helping him back into his boxers, and Skandar locates Nick's other clothes, handing them to him.

"Whenever you're ready," he smirks.

"I should—I should call my brothers," Nick says, his face flushed as he struggles to put his shirt back on.

"Yeah," says Will. "And I'll call you a taxi."

Skandar hears snippets of each conversation—Will giving his address and Nick lying about why he didn't pick up his phone (they were in the middle of a song on Guitar Hero, apparently, and Nick was winning), and he smiles to himself. It'd be nice to have Nick stay a bit longer. He wonders what Nick would look like bent over Will's bed as he fucked him, or what he'd look like spreading Will's legs and pushing in deep—

"Shame we can't keep him forever," Will whispers, sitting down beside Skandar as Nick paces across the room, trying to get dressed and talk on the phone at the same time.

When Nick leaves, he's flustered and embarrassed, stepping out into the cold night air. They don't know how to say goodbye to him, but when he twists his ring around his finger and then leans in close and says, "Just—seriously don't tell anyone, all right?", they can't say they're surprised.

***

  
Only minutes later, Will and Skandar are tumbling onto the sofa again, trying to get each other's clothes off as quickly as possible.

"I'm so hard," Skandar groans, heaving a sigh of relief when Will's hand wraps around him.

"Did you see his face when you—" Will starts, and Skandar nods, images flooding his mind.

It feels like they should be giving each other a high-five or something, but this? Is much better.

***

  
Anna spots Nick first, sees him entering the restaurant and looking around anxiously. She jabs Georgie with her elbow under the table.

"What?" asks Georgie.

Anna just tilts her head towards Nick, who's seen them now and is approaching, smiling a little too widely.

"Nicky!" cries Joe, leaping up from his seat.

"Hi Joe," says Nick, grabbing one of the last remaining chips on his brother's plate and eating it.

Anna looks at him a little more closely and gasps, elbowing Georgie again.

" _What?_ " Georgie hisses. "Oh come on, they didn't really do anything. They just played Guitar Hero."

Anna notes Nick's sweaty, messy hair, his pink cheeks, and the dark red bruise of a lovebite just visible under his collar. She notes the way his shirt isn't properly buttoned and the laces on his shoes are so loosely tied. She compares this with the way he looked at the start of the night, impeccably dressed, picture-perfect. Georgie looks at her, oblivious, and Anna shrugs.

"Yeah," she says. Nick may've lost some innocence tonight but there's no need to ruin Georgie's perception of her teen idols. "Yeah, you're right. Just Guitar Hero."

Nick twists his purity ring around his finger, reaching for another chip. _He might want to take that off_ , Anna thinks, unable to stop herself smiling. She thinks of Will and Skandar and shakes her head.

Those boys. _Honestly._

 

 

 

**End.**

  



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